


Hostage Negotiation

by cteranodon



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Espionage, Kissing, M/M, Plot, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:14:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26484760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cteranodon/pseuds/cteranodon
Summary: (Prompt fic: A kiss to pretend.)Deep Space Nine has been taken over, and Dr. Bashir is being held at phaserpoint along with the rest of the senior staff. Thankfully, the station has a hostage negotiator that nobody knew about.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 14
Kudos: 133





	Hostage Negotiation

“How many times have I said, NOBODY MOVE!”

Nobody had been moving, so Bashir quite frankly didn’t know what the man’s problem was. The Orion who seemed to be leading the operation, however, was back to aggressively pointing his phaser rifle at the host of hostages before him.

Deep Space Nine had been infiltrated by a band of Orion, apparently a faction of war-hawking rebels, who had taken over Ops and were now planning to hijack a starship. Bashir’d had the bad fortune of being in Sisko’s office at the time, so he was stuck at phaserpoint with the rest of the senior staff.

“Colonel,” one of the other Orion said, “we’re getting a signal from the station’s hostage negotiator.”

This time, Bashir saw movement in the form of Sisko’s eyebrow arching. Bashir thanked his stars that Sisko had saved him the embarrassment of wondering for too long if the station had a hostage negotiator he didn’t know about.

“What do they want?” the Colonel demanded.

“He says he wants to negotiate the release of one of the hostages… in exchange for supplies.”

“What supplies?”

“He didn’t say yet.”

The Colonel spun on his heel to face the senior staff, absolute fury in his eyes. “And which of you is he planning to have us let go?”

“You know,” Jadzia said with a keen smile, “not letting the hostage negotiator do any negotiating… _kind of_ defeats the purpose of us having him around.”

The Colonel opened and shut his mouth several times, before apparently conceding the point to Jadzia and making his way to another console to have his negotiations.

Sisko sidestepped closer to Jadzia to have a hushed conversation of his own with her. “I don’t suppose you know what’s going on here.”

“Not exactly,” Jadzia replied. “But I have a guess as to who our ‘ _negotiator_ ’ really is.”

“And when will we know if your guess is correct?”

A much softer smile played on her face. “When we find out who they want released.”

After a minute, the Colonel, looking several orders of magnitude less grumpy than before, trudged back over to the senior staff. His eyes scanned over them, then he pointed his phaser rifle firmly at Bashir.

“You! Come with me.”

Jadzia responded with a click of her tongue and a “Thought so.”

That was enough for Bashir to catch on. He dutifully followed the Colonel over to the lift.

“Keep the rest of them right where they are,” the Colonel barked to one of his lackeys.

The whirring of the lift started before they called it. The Colonel didn’t seem to think anything was wrong with that at first; perhaps he didn’t realize it wasn’t quite so automatic. When the lift came into view, it had the two Orion who had been stationed just outside, flanking a certain Cardassian.

“Julian!” Garak stepped down and flung his arms around Bashir.

“Is this the appointed go-between?” the Colonel asked the guards.

“Yes, the package is below,” one of the guards said. “He insisted on coming up here—”

“Just to make sure my Julian is safe.” Garak accentuated the point with a kiss directly on Bashir’s lips, lasting several seconds, with a mechanical precision, before he broke and looked Bashir up and down. “I trust you aren’t hurt?”

“Hhhhhuh,” Bashir answered.

“You poor thing, you must be in shock.” Garak clasped Bashir by the shoulder and glanced back at the Colonel. “Thank you, my friend, for being willing to let him go.”

“I’m nothing if not reasonable,” the Colonel half-growled, not all that interested in remaining reasonable for very long. “Let’s go back down and do the exchange. The rest of you, make sure the other hostages don’t move one micron.”

Garak guided Bashir by the lower back to the lift, where they stood beside the Colonel as they were taken back down. Bashir was still a bit dazed from the kiss he wasn’t remotely expecting, but he noticed the crate left in the middle of the floor.

“Is that the package?” the Colonel asked.

“Y-yes, that’s the one,” Garak answered.

“Open it.”

Garak went to it with an affected nervousness, pressed a button, and removed the lid, standing back for the Colonel to see what was inside. “Latinum, a photon torpedo, and a weapon that I am told will put your current one to shame.”

Glee made itself known on the Colonel’s face as he tossed his phaser rifle aside (in the opposite direction from Garak and Bashir) and picked up a similar, but more contemporary-looking weapon from within the crate. “Now _this_ is a rifle.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Garak smiled affably at the Colonel, an immediate signal to Bashir that the Colonel was already dead. “A gift from the Orion Syndicate.”

The room was filled with heavy silence for a five second count.

“…Excuse me?” the Colonel finally asked.

“Yes, delivered personally by Thadial Bokar, as a matter of fact.”

Another silence. Bashir wondered what it was Garak had just said, and how much this Colonel knew of what was about to happen. He could never really be sure with a trap set by the “plain” and “simple” “tailor.”

“How dare you speak that name to me.” Considering how temperamental the Colonel had been up to now, he was speaking remarkably evenly.

“Ah, is there some unpleasantness in your history?” Garak blinked innocently. “Perhaps there’s a message you’d like me to deliver him when I see him next?”

“I’d rather deliver it to him myself,” the Colonel said. “But… I might as well give it to you, first.”

He pointed the new rifle at Garak and pulled the trigger. Instantly, instead of any energy fired from the weapon, it was the Colonel himself who was surrounded by it, as he vanished with the distinctive sound of the transporter.

Garak eased his posture. “Well. I don’t believe he thought that idea through at all.”

Bashir had finally found his ability to speak. “Where did you… send him?”

“Nowhere at all. Or, at least, far enough away from the station that his body isn’t likely to collide with it. I doubt Chief O’Brien would appreciate the carcass of a reactionary terrorist arriving in one of the docking pylons.” Garak pulled the supposed photon torpedo out of the crate and began fiddling with it.

“No, I don’t suppose he would.” Bashir watched Garak carefully. “And what, dare I ask, are you doing with a torpedo?”

“Ah, but it’s not a torpedo, it’s a computer disguised with the casing of a torpedo. I can use it to interface remotely with the station’s transporters. I would hate for our Colonel to feel lonely out there, and he _was_ so helpful in making sure the other officers of this station didn’t move, so I would know exactly who not to lock onto.”

“But if you have a torpedo casing, that means you have the internals of a photon torpedo elsewhere,” Bashir finished.

“Nonsense. Someone accidentally left an empty torpedo casing in my shop while I was measuring them for a wedding gown.”

“And how exactly is it that you can interface with the station’s transporters?”

“Oh, that knowledge I came by during my time with the Obsidian Order.”

Perhaps it was partially the lingering surprise from the kiss, but Bashir was once again shocked beyond words.

Garak offered Bashir a sweet smile. “That _is_ what you wanted me to say, is it not?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have assumed you were… that is, I—”

“Not to worry. It’s untrue. I’m shocked you could believe me capable of something so disreputable as membership in the Obsidian Order.” Garak smirked as he went back to the torpedo casing. “It’s just some knowledge I was given as payment for a bit of weeding.”

“Weeding.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Now why do I find that so hard to believe?”

“I couldn’t say. You hardly have what I could describe as healthy skepticism. Ah!” Garak appeared to have finally pinpointed all of the persons in Ops. “Now, I’ll have to transport one more of them into space just to prove I mean business, otherwise they won’t surrender before killing your fellow Federation officers, plus Major Kira, and I simply couldn’t bear a world without her.”

“You’re not planning to just beam them all into space?” It had managed to take Bashir by surprise, and despite the fact that these particular Orion were all despicable, he found himself relieved.

“I know. You must be having an undue influence on me.”

“Are you sure? I mean, to a veteran spy, there must be value in the taking of prisoners.”

Garak rolled his eyes. “Certainly, to a veteran spy, but to _me_ it just serves as a source of danger.”

“You think these Orion could be dangerous prisoners? What, you think they could take over the station again?”

Garak gasped, affixing Bashir with a scandalized gaze. “My dear Doctor! What possible reason could you have to jump to that conclusion?”

“It seemed like a natural—”

“Oh, I don’t believe that.” Garak stood, placing the torpedo/computer to one side, and stepped closer to Bashir. “There are any number of reasons political prisoners could be dangerous. You picked one of the least likely among those reasons. _Escape!_ Now, perhaps my understanding of the human psyche is not what it should be, but I wonder if some part of you… _hopes_ for a second takeover of the station? Perhaps…” He stepped closer still. “Perhaps you are hoping that I will perform the same harried spouse routine for them a second time?”

Bashir was feeling very warm all of a sudden, but he managed to say “The thought hadn’t even occurred to me, my dear Mister Garak.”

“Ah. Well, I’m disappointed to hear it.” Garak didn’t back down. “Rest assured, I will take a different angle in future rescues.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“Hm.” Garak had the smug aura that signaled that Bashir had played right into his hands. “Then perhaps you want to rehearse? Only to ensure that you play the part better in the future, of course.”

“Naturally.” Bashir didn’t let his eyes back down from Garak’s, despite the intensity of the situation and how badly he wanted to break. “Perhaps some preparation work will do me good.”

There was a twinkle in Garak’s eye as he smiled back. “Then prepare a list of fake terms of endearment that are believable but uncomfortable to hear. Putting the listener in a position of discomfort is the key to the entire operation. I expect at least twenty, and I plan to critique each one at length.”

For the umpteenth time today, Bashir was left speechless.

“Now then. I must return to the problem at hand.” Garak swiftly placed a kiss on Bashir’s cheek, then spun to face his contraption. “Well done out there for your first run, my dear Doctor.”


End file.
